Redemption
by freefallin13
Summary: On the night of the Battle of Hogwarts, Percy Weasley returned to his family and fought alongside them. This story details the hours before he crawled through that Hogwarts passageway and the unexpected influence on his decision. Oneshot.


He half-expected them to come after him.

Beg him to see reason, at the very least. Implore that his services as Junior Assistant could not possibly be replaced. But he had been walking for an hour now, darting in and out of neighborhoods in attempt to shake off imagined pursuers. He gave one last glance over his shoulder and sighed - more in disappointment than relief.

No Ministry official looming in the shadows. No one to seize him by the arm, no one to subject him to an Imperius Curse or demand to know where his loyalty lie. And he would put up a gallant fight. A true Gryffindor. Instead, his footsteps echoing off the cobblestone streets of Diagon Alley reminded him of how alone he really was.

He had practiced in front of the mirror. In his mind, he pictured marching into the Minister's office, throwing down his resignation papers, and pontificating a stirring speech detailing why he was leaving. How about a stinging one-liner? Yes, make it memorable.A biting comment on the fall of the Ministry's graces in both the Wizarding World _and _his esteemed opinion. Something like that. Then he envisioned a dramatic showdown where he just _barely _escaped the clutches of the Aurors, and he would lead them on an intricate cat-and-mouse game of evasion.

No. None of that.

Instead, when he marched into the office and demanded to speak to the Minister, the junior undersecretary merely stopped her cross-stitching and blinked her round eyes up at him.

"The Minister is out of his office," she said blankly and began weaving the needle again. "Hogwarts business."

"Oh!" He was caught off guard. The Minister at Hogwarts? "Well, tell him - when he returns, that is - that I - I am resigning! He has failed me and the - er - Wizarding World!"

The woman continued to work on her pattern. "Of course, dear," she muttered.

And he left. And here he was.

He needed a drink.

He was hardly surprised to see The Leaky Cauldron open. He chucked dryly. _Tom will be serving beer during the Apocolypse_. The bell attached to the door rang as he entered, and Tom looked up from wiping the counter.

The tavern was full of its usual conglomerate of patrons. There was a brooding goblin glaring angrily out the window. There was a ragged man who was muttering inanely to his goblet of mead. There was an old hag sitting in the shadows, staring at the newest arrival with interest. And finally, there was a middle-aged woman sitting rigidly at the bar, clearly not a regular, and...was that a baby in that carrier?

He grabbed a bar stool, ordered a gillywater, and finally lowered his hood and smoothed his hair. Finally, a moment of rest.

"You're a Weasley, aren't you?"

It was the woman. He looked around at her warily, silently cursing himself for letting his guard down. She looked unsettlingly familiar with her thick dark hair and large eyes that stared at him with minor interest. Her casual clothing did not match her aristocratic demeanor. Although she was not smiling, her face was friendly, and he sized up the potential threat. She seemed to sense this and continued.

"I went to Hogwarts with Molly and Arthur," she said neutrally, as her eyes flickered up to his red hair. "They were a few years above me. There is no mistaking any children of theirs."

This sufficed. "I'm Percy," he said, taking his drink from Tom and turning towards her. "Percy Weasley."

She nodded but offered no introduction in return, and he did not bother to ask. A childish giggle erupted from the carrier next to her. Percy cocked an eyebrow.

"My grandson," she explained, as she picked up and cradled the baby. "Normally, I wouldn't bring him to -" she scanned the dim interior of The Leaky Cauldron. "Well, anyway. Tom told me we would not be disturbed here. I figured all of the action was at Hogwarts anyway, but better safe than sorry."

She suddenly looked very tried, and Percy fought the urge to ask her why she thought a public bar would be safer than her own home.

"Funny how Hogwarts was once the one place You-Know-Who wouldn't dare come near," he said, finding small talk more comfortable than the screaming silence.

"My daughter told me Harry Potter has returned to Hogwarts," she said, and Percy nodded in confirmation.

"She thinks that this is the time everyone will unite behind Potter. That this is some final stand," she added quietly. "I only met the boy once, but she certainly speaks highly of him."

The woman frowned suddenly as if she had just thought of something.

"Isn't...isn't your family close with Potter?" she asked.

"Yes, my youngest brother is," Percy said stiffly. shifting in his seat. He sensed Tom the bartender hovering a few feet away, cleaning the same spot on the bar counter for the fifth time.

"Then wouldn't they be at Hogwarts to fight alongside him?" she continued.

Percy nodded again, slower this time. He didn't like where this was going.

"And you are not with them," she said, more of an observation than a question.

Percy could feel his face turning red as he stared fixedly at his gillywater. "My family and I are not on the best of terms right now."

A thick moment of silence filled the air. When Percy looked back at the woman, the friendliness in her face had turned hard and cold.

"We had a disagreeing views on the politics in this war - from the Ministry to the reach of You-Know-Who's power," he said, wondering why he was divulging this information with a nameless stranger. "I found it best to sever ties while employed by the Ministry."

This seemed like a small matter to her because she said, "Your family could very well be on the verge of facing death, and you are letting silly feuds of the past stand between you?"

"Now see here, they didn't exactly beg me..." he began defensively, shocked to see this bit of information affect her so, but she raised a hand to cut him off.

"I don't need to hear it," she said sharply. "I am not one to judge the choices of another, but I would think that if there was any time to heal broken bonds - especially ones as deeply rooted as those of a family - it would be on the verge of battle. There might not be any second chances."

Percy said nothing but continued to stare at the gillywater that he was stirring furiously, his mind racing. _This woman had no idea. She didn't know what it was like._

As if she could read his mind, her voice softened. "How does it feel to be on the outside looking in? You don't fully appreciate that family support system until you're no longer under its embrace."

He shook his head. "I don't think you understand. We both said some pretty terrible things."

"Things could be worse," she said casually. "Momentary betrayal - that brief period of time when you think you have all the answers - is forgiven. That's one of the beautiful features of a family: the things that would shatter the strongest of friendships generally strengthen families. That is, of course, if one person can shelf his pride enough to admit he was wrong."

"Who said I was the one that was wrong?" Percy asked indignantly.

She studied his face and allowed a small smile. "You just did," she said quietly.

The room was getting warmer. The aged wall panels seemed to be closing in around him. Tom must have rubbed a hole in the wood from the amount of attention he was giving that specific spot on the counter. He suddenly felt very irritated.

"As much as I appreciate advice from grandmothers I meet at bars, you could not understand my family's situation and I would prefer if you stay out of it," he snapped, grabbing his cloak and wrapping it around him with a flair.

She opened her mouth as if to say something, then seemed to reconsider. She looked at the baby, her brow furrowed and jaw clenched, and he got the impression she had nothing more to say. Annoyed, he slammed down a Sickle for the gillywater and made towards the exit.

It wasn't her voice that made him stop short of the door, it was the force and pain surrounding every word.

"I cannot think of a better way to make amends than to stand alongside your parents and siblings in battle. No time for arguing when spells are flying left and right," she called after him. "Believe me, families have been ruined over simpler things. Do not let this be one of them."

He turned back to look at her, just in time to catch her quickly wiping an offending tear from her cheek. He took a deep breath, nodded at her, and walked back into the cool May night.

It was time to pay the Minister that visit.


End file.
